Little Talks
by Poly-chan
Summary: The ghost voices in her head were always holding her back, making her not feel like herself. But he missed her, he missed their little talks.


_**Title: **Little Talks  
**Rating:** K+  
**Warnings:** Contain spoilers for the end of the books  
**Chapters:** 1 (oneshot)  
**Summary:** The ghost voices in her head were always holding her back, making her not feel like herself. But he missed her, he missed their little talks._

_**A/n:** So, I heard the song **Little Talks**, by **Of Monsters & Men** on the radio and loved it. I bought the album on itunes (It is amazing!) and one day I was listening to it and realized... that it fits perfectly the Katniss X Peeta relationship. So why not write a songfic about it? Since the song is sang by two different voices - one male and one female - I put the sentences of the lyrics between quotes, this way it is easier to understand the "conversation".  
**A/n2:** This is an update. My work was reviewed by aaliona and nightfuries, from The Beta Team, and I can't begin to say how much it helped me. I am just beggining my writing in English, and it is good to be leaded on the right direction. Thank you for the help.  
_

* * *

_**Little Talks**_

_Hey! Hey! Hey!_

_"I don't like walking around this old and empty house._"  
_"So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear"_

Every day it was hard. To wake up and realize that she woke up. That she was alive, breathing, healthy, when so many people were not. Strangers. People that she knew. People that she loved. So many were dead because of an idea, a hope, something that she helped to create with her stupid acts.

Maybe that was her punishment. To keep living, or rather existing, years to a count, remembering the ghosts of the past and all the people that, directly or indirectly, she had killed. To walk in the hallways of the house that was too big for her, too empty.

One of the days that she woke up, the first thing that crossed her mind was not the usual _Damn it! _It was a concerned feeling instead, the feeling that there was someone else in the room. Her trained eyes snapped to the corner where she had a chair used just for clothes-that-should-be-washed-at-some-point purpose. Grey met blue, and for one instant—just one short moment—everything was in the right place again.

But that didn't last long.

Because soon after there was the flood of feelings that the memories brought back. There was the recognition, the acknowledgment of every nuance of his body language and all the other little things he was trying to hide behind those blue, innocent eyes.

Because between fights to the death, manipulator politicians, revolutions, shots and bombs, death of relatives and beloved ones, craziness and lucidity, they became those kind of people who could understand each other with nothing more than a stare.

And she knew he was there for good. She knew that, if she wanted, he would hold her hand and walk through the dark hallways, even if that was hard for him. Even if he was not the oblivious boy that loved her no matter what. The boy with no scars.

_"The stairs creak as I sleep,  
it's keeping me awake"  
"It's the house telling you to close your eyes"_

There was no words, not on the first days. Their mute communication was enough. Sae, who would come now and then to check that she was alive, didn't break their silence pact either. She knew that chit chat was not what they needed. She did realize that after the boy came back, the girl begun to eat more. She would push the plate aside, almost full of food, and he would give her a severe look. She would roll her eyes, but slowly eat two or three spoonfuls more.

It was kind of fun to watch.

But most of the time Sae was not around and it was just the two of them. They would linger in solitude.

She would sit on the bed, staring at the wall. He would doodle on a notepad.

And when night came she would hold his wrist, pleading him not to leave. He would snuggle in beside her, feeling something familiar when he welcomed her into his arms, even if his real memories of nights on the train chasing each other's nightmares were still a little confusing.

Just his breathing on her neck or his steady heartbeats under her ear would calm her like no other medicine prescribed by Dr. Aurelius could. After so many sleepless nights, she could close her eyes and really rest.

_"Some days I can't even dress myself."_  
_"It's killing me to see you this way."_

Some days were harder than the others.

The ones where she couldn't even stand up from bed, where no one would convince her to even try a spoonful of food, those were the worst. Eventually she would look into his eyes an see the pain she was causing – how worried he was and how much he wanted her to get better, to feel better. Some days that would be enough to make her give the effort to get out of bed. Some days that just made her sadness even more painful.

_'Cause though the truth may vary_  
_this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore._

_Hey! Hey! Hey!_

The first time that there was an exchange of words was also the first time he had one of his episodes. He was carrying a tray of food. She, in the bedroom, heard the tray falling and the dish breaking. In an instant she was running to him.

He tried to distance her from him. He tried to hold into consciousness, to not go to that dark place with terrible memories that were not true. But even with his effort to run away, to go as far as he could and discount his pointless anger in furniture or anything else that it was not her, she would not let him. Suddenly aware that they had switch places, that he was the one that needed to be taken care of, her determination came back with total strength. She held his face with both hands, whispering soothingly: "It is ok. It is not real. I am right here, I am real. Come back to me. Come back to me, Peeta."

After he stopped straining his muscles, after his eyes opened and were not black pools with just a rim of blue anymore, he sighed. He sighed, smiled a little, and begun to apologize profusely. And she laughed – a short, hoarse laugh – her hands still on his face, because that was the boy that she knew, that was the gentle boy that eras ago had thrown the bread to her.

Just because it was too much to feel for someone who had spent so long not feeling anything at all, her little laugh came accompanied by some tears that were quickly swept off her face by his fingers.

"We will be ok again," were the words proffered, carried with hope. Optimistic words. But she wouldn't expect less from him.

_"There's an old voice in my head_  
_that's holding me back"_  
_"Well tell her that I miss our little talks."_

In the moment that he saw her smile at his words he suddenly understood why his other self – the boy before tracker jacker venom and false memories – had fallen in love with her.

The dish was cleared, the food eaten, and the room fell silent again.

There was always some struggle inside her. After an exchange like the one in the hallway, she would retreat to herself and be even quieter for days.

He would wait.

The truth was that she was still afraid to get involved. Loving someone had never brought her a good ending; it just made her suffer. Old voices would whisper in her head: Get away, run while you can, because once you fall you are lost, and this time there will be no coming back.

But he was not going to give up on her.

In the beginning, the silence between them was comfortable. What both of them needed, a company, no words. But he was getting more aware of the situation. His memories – real memories – were coming back to him, and he wanted to ask her questions. He was afraid that this would disrupt their little peace, but he really needed to know. There were so many things that were not clear to him.

The first times she just ignored him, a weak try to close herself in. She didn't want to discuss the past with him, even if her mind was drowning in past memories most of the time.

But he was patient. His touch was gentle, his eyes expectant, and she finally gave in.

"One question. That is all you will have today."

It was a beginning, he thought. He went back and forth between everything that was not clear to him. He finally looked in her eyes.

"Did we really know each other when we were kids?"

_Soon it will all be over, buried with our past_  
_We used to play outside when we were young_  
_and full of life and full of love._

She knew he deserved a better answer than just "Yes". And by remembering the little and joyful boy that he was back them, she thought, maybe that was not going to be one of the memories that just left a trail of pain as she remembered.

"Yes, we did. But maybe you noticed me more than I noticed you."

He raised his eyebrows and she smiled a little. She begun to tell him the story that, ironically, he told her a couple of years before. The story of the son of a baker and a girl with two braids that sang so beautifully that even the birds fell silent.

"Oh!" was all he said by the end of the story.

"What do you mean by 'Oh'!" she said, poking his arm teasingly. She put her heart on telling that story, and that was all the response she got?

"So I didn't come to talk with you after class?" he asked, a little confused.

"No," she answered, also confused.

"And you didn't attack me?"

"No," she answered, more gently now. So they had tried to play tricks on him with that beloved memory? She reached for his hand, wanting to reassure him. " No, Peeta, I didn't. You didn't come to talk with me, even if you were in love since that day. Or that's what you said."

"So when did we talk for the first time?"

She smiled a sad smile.

"That is another question. I told you just one today."

_"Some days I feel like I'm wrong when I am right."_  
_"Your mind is playing tricks on you my dear."_

Even if they were better together then apart, not all the days were easy. Nothing was easy. One year passed, and tough Dr. Aurelius stated that both of them were making progress; he reminded them that they shouldn't stop working toward full recovery.

She frequently asked herself what exactly full recovery was.

No more days where she couldn't move herself out of the bed? No more days where he needed to hold whichever object was nearby like his life depended on that?

No. She was no fool to believe that that day would come. The Games and the revolution took their toll and they would never get free of the scars. It was part of who they were, who they became.

But she did promise herself to never get lost again as she did when the war ended. For him, she would do that. Because he _needed _her, just like she needed him.

And some days he needed her more than others

"You! You damn mutt! I will kill you, you did this to me! You killed my family! You want to kill me!"

"No baby, I didn't and I don't. Come on, look in my eyes. Come back to me."

"Damn woman. You are playing tricks with me. Nothing more than a slut. Yeah, that's what you are." He covered his face with his hands, digging his nails on the skin.

She tried to touch his hand, to make sure that he knew she was there, but he moved away like he had been burnt by her touch.

They were having a hard week, and she was stressed. Hearing those words made her want to yell back, but she needed to remind herself that this was not _him._ He would never say things like that.

"Stay away from me." And this time, he really looked her on the eyes and she saw a tip of blue, a tip of her boy. Maybe he really needed some space.

She stood up and ran away, got out of the house, not really seeing were she was going. And she didn't realized where she was until a voice startled her.

"Let me guess. Having problems in your love nest."

She raised her eyes to the filthy mess around her and to the man in the middle of it. He was surrounded by his beloved bottles.

"I am no good to him, Haymitch. Maybe he would do better away from me."

A laugh filled the room, a laugh that she didn't expected.

"I didn't know today was April first, sweetheart."

"I am being serious."

"No, you are not. You are a mess bigger than me when that boy is not around, and both of us know that. Now why don't you go back to your house and make up with him like you will surely do."

He raised a bottle to his mouth, like he was done with the subject.

"What if... what if what we are doing is not the best?"

The man sighed, lowering the bottle slowly.

"I mean, he should avoid everything that triggers his episodes. Tracker jackers, berries, fire. But I am the biggest trigger, am I not? All his messed up memories are about me."

He made a dramatically tired face, looking at her like she was a stupid child. Just shooing her was not going to work.

"Now listen here, girl. You really believe that he is going to spend the rest of his life avoiding everything that can trigger his memory? I don't believe it. And it doesn't matter what that fancy doctor of yours says. It is just not practical. Why don't you lock the boy in a capsule then, huh? That's the only way to completely isolate him."

She looked at her mentor's eyes with defeat. No Games, no war, and he was still mentoring them.

"What do I do then?" She was so tired of all of that. She deserved all of it, but not sweet, goodhearted Peeta. He deserved better than that.

"Nothing different then what you are doing. Be there for him. He will need to learn to live with the episodes, not avoid it."

"Maybe if I leave without..."

"No! Damn it girl, are you stupid? Go back to that house now and take care of that boy. And don't bother me again, or I will hit you with one of the bottles. My aim is still pretty good."

_'Cause though the truth may vary_  
_This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore_

_Hey!_  
_Don't listen to a word I say_  
_Hey!_  
_The screams all sound the same._  
_Hey!_

_Though the truth may vary_  
_this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore_

She was almost at the front steps when she heard it. A loud crash, that made her feet move instantly. She looked around frantically, and just stopped to breathe when she saw him at the kitchen, little pieces of glass everywhere around him.

"What happened? Are you ok?"

"I- I just needed some water, but my hands were still shaking... what are you doing here?"

She was already at his side, checking his hands for a cut and sighing when she saw some blood.

"What do you mean what I am doing here? It is still my house if you don't remember," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I thought that, by now, you would have reached the woods. You shouldn't have come back, what if I was still violent?"

"You were not violent."

"What if I was? God, Katniss, what if I hurt you?"

"You will not," she said, fiercely, and he flinched when the tap water washed his cut.

"Look, I am worried about this. I am a threat to you. I think we should..."

She knew what he was going to say. She knew because she had just said the same thing to Haymitch. But the idea sounded stupid already.

"What? Get on our separate ways? Do you want me to move over to District 4 with my mom? Or are you going back to the Capitol? Face it, Peeta, we can't do that. Both of us know why we came back. There is no other place for us."

"But if I hurt..."

"You will not!" She released his hand holding a tiny piece of napkin to stop the bleeding, and looked at him. "I... I had this conversation earlier, and Haymitch made me realize..."

He looked at her with raised eyebrows. She never listened to Haymitch before, did she?

"The point is, we were always better together. That's what we do, remember? Take care of each other."

He didn't say anything.

"Why are you smiling, Peeta?"

"That was really cute. Touched my heart."

She smiled too.

"Stop teasing me!"

"Hey, I am being serious," he said, holding both of her hands. "You are right. We are always better together."

"So no more nonsense about wanting me to get away of you, because it is not going to work."

He sighed.

"I think I can live with that."

She laughed and he smiled, pulling her closer until he could feel her breath on his face.

"I am ok with that too," she said, finally tasting his lips.

_You're gone, gone, gone away,_  
_I watched you disappear._  
_All that's left is a ghost of you._  
_Now we're torn, torn, torn apart,_  
_there's nothing we can do,_  
_Just let me go, we'll meet again soon._

The aftermath was peaceful. He had some weeks of peace, with no episodes. Both of them slept well at night. He began to help around the district with the cleaning and reconstruction and one day he came home talking about the rebuilding of the bakery. She went out to hunt every day and, for once, things looked in place. They were slowly healing.

The rebuilding took a long time, with the materials sent from the Capitol in trains and not that many adult men to help with the heavy work. But he was always at the city working, every day, no matter what was the weather. Sometimes she passed by there to see him after her hunt. Sometimes they had lunch together.

"Do you think I should build the showcase just like it was or should I make it bigger?" He asked her one afternoon, as they were seated on a bench near the future bakery, sharing peaches and strawberries.

"I liked the old one."

He made some notes on his notebook, then raised his eyes to the foundations of the building. She saw the beginnings of a smile.

"I can already see the little kids' faces pressed against the glass, choosing the most colorful cupcake," he said, the silly smile all over his face.

She didn't answer, and it took some time for him to realize that something must be wrong. He turned and didn't see a smile, but a frown on her face.

"I can't wait, it is going to be great." But the enthusiasm of the words didn't show in her voice.

"What's the matter?"

"I... I need to go."

She collected the basket that she used to pick the fruits and fled as fast as she could.

He stayed on the same spot, looking at her frame disappearing. Five minutes later he already had talked with some of the boys that were helping him, letting them now that he was done for the day.

He found her on the woods. She could hear him coming from miles with his noisy steps, but she didn't move. He sat by her side and looked at her. They stayed like that for a long time.

"It is Prim, isn't?"

"It has been three years, Peeta. Can you believe that?"

He put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her close.

"I remember how she loved to do that, she loved to stop by the bakery to see the beautiful cakes and cookies, and she would press her face against the glass, and I would say, don't do that, you are messing up the window."

She laughed, but he also knew that she was crying. He pressed her harder against his chest, running a reassuring hand through her back.

"And now other kids will come and do that, and life will go on, and that is how it is supposed to be, but sometimes it is just..."

"It doesn't look fair. I know, it doesn't."

"I just don't want people to forget it... I don't want to forget her."

"We won't. She lives with us, in our memories. And we have the book of memories that we are working on. I will draw a beautiful picture and you will write down your best memories and she will never be forgotten."

She moved her head up, smiling.

"Thank you."

_"Now wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around"  
"__I'll see you when I fall asleep."  
_

That night she dreamed about her little sister but, for the first time in a long period, it was not in nightmares that her face appeared. It was in a peaceful dream, her cheeks flushed and her face with a big smile. No blood or explosion or knifes or screams.

When she woke up, she had a smile on her face.

After a long winter they finally began to get the warmer winds of spring. With the longer days she would spend more time in the woods, and not just for the purpose of hunting. She showed him her refugee and they spent long hours swimming on the lake or laying on the ground, happy with nothing but the sounds of the forest filling their ears.

_Hey!  
Don't listen to a word I say  
Hey!  
The screams all sound the same.  
Hey!_

_Though the truth may vary_  
_this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore_

As she is looking at the bright sky with her head against his chest, close enough that she can hear his steady heartbeats, she let herself believe that maybe it was worth it. Maybe she shouldn't blame herself for the happenings in the past. It is enough that she will always live with the pain.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks with a sleepy voice, his hand brushing her hair distractedly.

"Dandelions."

"Dandelions?"

She smiles and begins to explain why, for her, dandelions are a symbol of hope. He listens to the story intently and, by the end of it, kisses the top of her head.

"And you did it again," she says quietly "When I was broken and lost, once more you brought hope back to me."

"We gave hope to each other," he corrects.

They stay silent for some minutes, and she is almost falling asleep when he says:

"I missed our little talks. I missed you."

"I am right here now. And I am not going anywhere."

* * *

_**A/n:** That's it, hope you liked it. Please, leave me a review telling me what you thought about the story!_


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